


Gone I & II

by Holde_Maid



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: highlander100, Double Drabble, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Gen, LiveJournal Prompt, Prompt Fic, Wordcount: 100, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7102141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holde_Maid/pseuds/Holde_Maid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a picture in my mind... and, of course, with the challenge at the livejournal community highlander100.</p><p>The two drabbles are independent of one another</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drink (or, alternatively: Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> Neither the Highlander franchise nor any of its ingredients are mine. No copyright infringement intended, no money made.

Methos lounged in the only corner of the tiny cottage that allowed for lounging, on the bed. Discontentedly he looked at the bottle in his hand. He was methodically binge-drinking his way through an entire case of beer. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. No oblivion, no nirvana, no unconsciousness, nothing. Ugh. They just didn’t make beer like they used to.

The beers of old times — ah, he could make do without them. But there was something much more important that he had lost. And no matter how much alcohol he battled his sanity with, he would remember it was gone.


	2. Gone Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is it about Methos and beer?  
> Oh, and like the brother piece "Drink", this drabble was written in response to a challenge at the livejournal drabble challenge community highlander100.

Bitter and sweet, the taste of the beer filled Methos’ palate. Bitter and sweet, like the memories he kept. Bitter and sweet, like the way it had all ended. Bitter and sweet and heavy on his soul and mind.

The Quickening he had taken would remain with him, even though Silas’ voice was not discernible in the cacophony that probably filled his subconscious.  
He had taken so many heads, had seen so many killed! At the time, he had had a freedom that now could no longer be recovered. Bitter and sweet and heavy on his conscience. Gone.


End file.
